


The price for peace (FFXIVWrite2020 Day 28 - Irenic)

by Ivelia



Series: FFXIV Write 2020 [28]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Gen, Patch 5.3: Reflections in Crystal Spoilers, Tumblr: FFXIVwrite2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:33:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26706040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ivelia/pseuds/Ivelia
Summary: Part of my attempt for #FFXIVWrite2020 - September 28 (Day 28 - Irenic)Si vis pacem, para bellum. (If you want peace, prepare for war)Spoiler for 5.3 and Werlyt quest line, please read at your own discretion!
Series: FFXIV Write 2020 [28]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1906951
Kudos: 7





	The price for peace (FFXIVWrite2020 Day 28 - Irenic)

The sullen skies of Terncliff, grey, white and blue like the rest of the small provincial city, were perfect to reflect on one’s life failures. Gaius Baelsar, former Legatus of the XIVth Imperial Legion and now acting as  _ somewhat of a consultant  _ on the question of countering the ‘Weapons’ series project of the VIIth Imperial legion, his  _ former colleagues _ , was looking at the sea,  where the fight between the G-Warrior and the Sapphire Weapon took place. Both units had been retrieved, but only one pilot made it out of the fight alive.  _ Another one he failed to save.  _ A curt female voice rang next to him:

\- “This would probably sound like I’m pouring salt over fresh wounds, but... I’m sorry for your loss.” He turned to face the stoic Duskwight, the other pilot of that fight, leaning to the nearby stone guardrail. The  _ Warrior of Light _ , as cold faced as ever. At first, he had thought that being this apathetic was a moderate way to express her hatred, but looking at her interactions with others, it seemed that her facial paralysis was not restricted to him, but to most strangers; a far cry from the traditional, friendly hero image.

Still, he wouldn’t have been surprised if she disliked him, as much as he disliked her. This would have been a natural reaction; he did helm the imperial forces that inflicted tremendous suffering to the Eorzean people (although, it had been for the greater good); as for her, it seemed that slaying his subordinates had become something of a habit. Both Milisandia and now Ricon had fallen facing her; he had seen them as his own children, yet here he was, facing their murderer. And, almost a lifetime ago, she had been the fresh faced adventurer that, against all odds, disrupted his plans for Eorzean conquest (at that time, he had been unknowingly dancing to the Ascian tune, but  _ still _ ), battled his best men and laid them low. Livia, Rhitahtyn... All brave, loyal souls, sacrificed to the cause under her hands. And he couldn't, wouldn’t even entertain the idea of avenging them.

For they were now reluctant allies. He sighed. How the mighty had fallen! From the mighty Legatus commanding legions, he was now an old bag of bones, too stubborn to die, not before biting back one last time at his previous masters. Not the glorious Black Wolf, but an old, mangy dog. A traitor to the country he had defended for so long. Was it out of a sense of duty? Was it rancor? He himself couldn’t even tell anymore. 

\- “Why are you trusting me?” he asked bitterly. It could be a trap; trusting as Garlond and friends appeared to be, it looked like it would have been easy for him to sell them out to the Garlean army or something, either in hopes to return to his position, out of loyalty for Garlemald, or out of revenge; was it that a broken man like him was not even a menace anymore for the mighty hero of Eorzea?

\- “Hmm… Do you remember when you asked me to join you, back in the Praetorium?” she answered after pondering the sudden question for a while. She quoted ““ _ Together, we could bring order to Eorzea, and usher in a lasting peace. _ ” I think those were your exact words.”

\- “Yes.” It seemed like it had been a lifetime ago, but he did remember uttering this sentence. At that time, it had fallen on deaf ears, or so it seemed. “What of it?” 

\- “You haven’t changed at all.” Just as Valdeaulin warned her - _ he’s still the same man deep down. _ ”Although the good old Garlean-style genocide is not a method I can get behind, at least the base intention was there. So it doesn’t seem that far fetched that you’d seek an alliance to oppose such a threat to mankind. Still…” she grumbled: “Imperial methods are way too radical… Though coming from a nation founded by someone who barely saw spoken races as being sentient cattle to be slaughtered... I shouldn't be surprised.” her bemused tone seemed  _ almost _ friendly, although the subject was not that appropriate.

\- “It is… as simple as that?” The rest of the question was untold, but palpable. She would disregard the grievous enmity for some words spoken almost as an afterthought?

\- “Do I look like I have time to waste burdening myself with bullshite like evaluating the moral compass of my allies?” She barked a dry laugh “Spare me the naivety, Gauis. My hands have not been white for a long time.”

He did not feel from her the same animosity as he did from Valdeaulin -every waking second, he felt the disagreeable look of the other man on his neck, like a blade ready to cut down at the slightest misdemeanour- her almost careless trust was different compared the pressure from the other Duskwight, though he felt that something was slightly off. She looked mostly the same as she did at the time of the Operation Archon, yet something was slightly different: gone was the blind idealism from her beginnings, eroded by failures, betrayals, loss. It somehow felt like the numerous children he had taken in on various battlefields: the dull look of lost innocence.

\- “You’ve  _ aged _ .” It was not quite the right term, but the feeling was similar, as if she had spent years, decades carrying the weight of the world. Yet no woman would tolerate being called old.

\- “Tsk. You’re the old one, shitty old man.” She rebuked him harshly. “It’s not called aging, it’s called  _ nuance _ ”.

\- “I see.” he said placatingly. He understood. Hers had been a long road, since he first saw her after she had triumphed over the Lady of the Vortex… And now, they were both no strangers to spilling blood in the name for peace. It was useless to count old grudges and let them get in the way of their current objectives. Yet... She looked even worse than when he met her in the Burn, even when she was distressed over the uncertain fate of her fellow Scions. What on Hydaelyn did happen to her during her recent travels?

\- “It’s good that we can understand each other a bit more.” she started: “Which brings me to say…” Her face returned to a cold, merciless expression, as if the camaraderie from the earlier part of their conversation never existed: “It’s not because I understand and sympathize with your loss that I am going to stay my hand.” “If I meet them on the battlefield, and they are enough of menace that there is no other way for me to stop them, I  _ will _ slay them.” So much for emitting less pressure than Valdeaulin. He looked directly in her eyes, gazing into their real depths for the first time since the beginning of their conversation, and had he been a lesser man, he would probably have  _ shuddered  _ internally: these were the eyes of someone who had strangled in their cradle the hopes of an entire civilization; strangling a few more children in the name of peace wouldn’t phase her much more. “Though I will find no pleasure in it. So if you have the opportunity to dissuade them, feel free to do so.”

**Author's Note:**

> Everything I touch turns into a moping bitch, or something.


End file.
